Better Gutenberg
Free, beautifully formatted public-domain ebooks
‹Better GutenbergDramatic RomancesCount Gismond · 5 of 25Contents›

Dramatic Romances

by Robert Browning

5 of 25 · Contents · Download EPUB

Count Gismond

Aix en Provence

I

Christ God who savest man, save most
       Of men Count Gismond who saved me!
Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,
       Chose time and place and company
To suit it; when he struck at length
My honour, ’twas with all his strength.

II

And doubtlessly ere he could draw
       All points to one, he must have schemed!
That miserable morning saw
       Few half so happy as I seemed,
While being dressed in queen’s array
To give our tourney prize away.

III

I thought they loved me, did me grace
       To please themselves; ’twas all their deed;
God makes, or fair or foul, our face;
       If showing mine so caused to bleed
My cousins’ hearts, they should have dropped
A word, and straight the play had stopped.

IV

They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen
       By virtue of her brow and breast;
Not needing to be crowned, I mean,
       As I do. E’en when I was dressed,
Had either of them spoke, instead
Of glancing sideways with still head!

V

But no: they let me laugh, and sing
       My birthday song quite through, adjust
The last rose in my garland, fling
       A last look on the mirror, trust
My arms to each an arm of theirs,
And so descend the castle-stairs—

VI

And come out on the morning-troop
       Of merry friends who kissed my cheek,
And called me queen, and made me stoop
       Under the canopy—a streak
That pierced it, of the outside sun,
Powdered with gold its gloom’s soft dun—

VII

And they could let me take my state
       And foolish throne amid applause
Of all come there to celebrate
       My queen’s-day—Oh I think the cause
Of much was, they forgot no crowd
Makes up for parents in their shroud!

VIII

However that be, all eyes were bent
       Upon me, when my cousins cast
Theirs down; ’twas time I should present
       The victor’s crown, but... there, ’twill last
No long time... the old mist again
Blinds me as then it did. How vain!

IX

See! Gismond’s at the gate, in talk
       With his two boys: I can proceed.
Well, at that moment, who should stalk
       Forth boldly—to my face, indeed—
But Gauthier, and he thundered “Stay!”
And all stayed. “Bring no crowns, I say!”

X

“Bring torches! Wind the penance-sheet
       About her! Let her shun the chaste,
Or lay herself before their feet!
       Shall she whose body I embraced
A night long, queen it in the day?
For honour’s sake no crowns, I say!”

XI

I? What I answered? As I live,
       I never fancied such a thing
As answer possible to give.
       What says the body when they spring
Some monstrous torture-engine’s whole
Strength on it? No more says the soul.

XII

Till out strode Gismond; then I knew
       That I was saved. I never met
His face before, but, at first view,
       I felt quite sure that God had set
Himself to Satan; who would spend
A minute’s mistrust on the end?

XIII

He strode to Gauthier, in his throat
       Gave him the lie, then struck his mouth
With one back-handed blow that wrote
       In blood men’s verdict there. North, South,
East, West, I looked. The lie was dead,
And damned, and truth stood up instead.

XIV

This glads me most, that I enjoyed
       The heart of the joy, with my content
In watching Gismond unalloyed
       By any doubt of the event:
God took that on him—I was bid
Watch Gismond for my part: I did.

XV

Did I not watch him while he let
       His armourer just brace his greaves,
Rivet his hauberk, on the fret
       The while! His foot... my memory leaves
No least stamp out, nor how anon
He pulled his ringing gauntlets on.

XVI

And e’en before the trumpet’s sound
       Was finished, prone lay the false knight,
Prone as his lie, upon the ground:
       Gismond flew at him, used no sleight
O’ the sword, but open-breasted drove,
Cleaving till out the truth he clove.

XVII

Which done, he dragged him to my feet
       And said “Here die, but end thy breath
In full confession, lest thou fleet
       From my first, to God’s second death!
Say, hast thou lied?” And, “I have lied
To God and her,” he said, and died.

XVIII

Then Gismond, kneeling to me, asked
       What safe my heart holds, though no word
Could I repeat now, if I tasked
       My powers for ever, to a third
Dear even as you are. Pass the rest
Until I sank upon his breast.

XIX

Over my head his arm he flung
       Against the world; and scarce I felt
His sword (that dripped by me and swung)
       A little shifted in its belt:
For he began to say the while
How South our home lay many a mile.

XX

So ’mid the shouting multitude
       We two walked forth to never more
Return. My cousins have pursued
       Their life, untroubled as before
I vexed them. Gauthier’s dwelling-place
God lighten! May his soul find grace!

XXI

Our elder boy has got the clear
       Great brow; tho’ when his brother’s black
Full eye shows scorn, it... Gismond here?
       And have you brought my tercel back?
I just was telling Adela
How many birds it struck since May.

NOTES: “Count Gismond: Aix in Provence” illustrates, in the person of the woman who relates to a friend an episode of her own life, the power of innate purity to raise up for her a defender when caught in the toils woven by the unsuspected envy and hypocrisy of her cousins and Count Gauthier, who attempt to bring dishonor upon her, on her birthday, with the seeming intention of honoring her. Her faith that the trial by combat between Gauthier and Gismond must end in Gismond’s victory and her vindication reflects most truly, as Arthur Symons has pointed out, the medieval atmosphere of chivalrous France.

124. Tercel: a male falcon.

← Back to Dramatic Romances

Scroll to Top